


you cool me down

by frozensight



Series: Magnus Coffee Blends [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 00:39:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2488037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozensight/pseuds/frozensight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik embarrasses himself around his employees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you cool me down

It’s been a week since the man with the piercing blue stare gawked at him like he was the last man on Earth, and Erik hasn’t stopped thinking about him for a single day. Emma has made fun of him every shift they’ve had together—which has been four, by the way, four long shifts behind the counter, making orders as Emma tries to fool him into thinking Blue Eyes is back—and Erik has messed up more orders in this one week than he has in the entire two years he’s owned Magnus Coffee Blends. On no less than three occasions has Armando asked if he’s alright, and has forced Erik— _the boss_ —to go on break a minimum of five separate times. Azazel thinks the whole thing is downright _hilarious_ , and while he doesn’t say anything, he does start laughing every time he walks past his boss.

If Erik isn’t careful, he’s going to end up killing two of his employees, and then he’ll have to put up his least favorite sign—now hiring.

He’s on one of his aforementioned Armando-mandated breaks, sitting at one of the tables near the register, when his phone starts ringing. The number isn’t recognized by his caller id, but Erik’s been in contact with a new supplier of cups lately so he answers it without question.

“Erik Lehnsherr, owner of Magnus Coffee.”

 _“The **owner**?”_ The voice on the other end isn’t the deep baritone of the cup supplier Erik talked to yesterday, but it does sound familiar—and embarrassed.

“Yes, the owner. May I ask who this is?” Emma raises an eyebrow at him from where she’s ringing someone up, and Erik shrugs back at her.

 _“I’m Charles Xavier.”_ The man on the phone huffs, seemingly at himself, and adds, _“Not that that means anything to you since I didn’t give you my name the other day, so you really have no way of recognizing it. Ah, I did not think this through.”_

About halfway through the man talking it clicks for Erik, and his elbow almost slips off the table in his effort to stand up quickly. Fully aware that Emma is staring at him, Erik tries to walk around the bar to reach his office, but his feet refuse to move as he says, “It’s you?”

There’s a sigh of relief that interrupts the rambling Charles had gone off on. _“It’s me."_

“You called.”

_“Indeed I did.”_

Now Erik can practically feel Emma’s eyes boring into his skull, but he pointedly does not look back in her direction. “I had begun to think you wouldn’t.”

Charles laughs nervously. _“Yes, well, you see...I’d forgotten your number in my pocket, and then I got busy grading papers—undergrads can have such atrocious grammar—and I got swept away in prepping for midterms, and then when I was doing laundry earlier I found the napkin.”_

“And you called.”

_“Yes, though if it’s a bad time I can call back later or not at all if you weren’t serious, I can just hang up now, and—”_

“No!” Erik’s urgency surprises himself, and it certainly surprised Charles, who falls silent. He clears his throat and says, “I mean, no, it’s not a bad time, and yes I was serious.”

_“Good, good.”_

Together they let the quiet stretch over the call, and Erik’s about to ask when he’s free when Emma yells, “For God’s sake, Lehnsherr, ask him out! You’ve only been pining for a _week_.”

“Don’t you have work to do?!” retorts Erik over his shoulder, and Emma gestures wildly around to the deserted shop, giving Erik a taste of what Charles must’ve felt the week before.

His idle threat to fire her is cut off by Charles asking, his voice riddled with amusement, _“You’ve been pining, then? What am I, a fjord?”_

It takes Erik a second to place the reference, and when he does it’s all he can do not to gape at the phone in bewilderment. “Did you just...make a Flying Circus joke?”

_“And if I did? Do you have something against British men who make Flying Circus jokes? Mr. Erik Lehnsherr of Magnus Coffee?”_

The grin is on his face before he can school his expression, and Erik really should’ve dashed back to his office before answering the call. “No, in fact it’s quite the opposite.”

_“Brilliant, then you wouldn’t be opposed to having dinner with me later this week? Or of course you could continue pining if you’d rather, but I think dinner would be much better.”_

“Dinner would be fantastic, my friend.”

_“Call me Charles, and I’ll call you later to arrange the details. Currently, I have a stack of tests that need my attention.”_

“Until then.” Erik puts away his phone as he turns towards the bar, unable to keep the smile off his face until he sees Emma and Armando leaning on the counter, watching him. “What are you two staring at?”

“Oh nothing,” says Emma, smirking, as she addresses Armando, “What would you call that expression? I’ve never seen it on the boss’ face before.”

“I think most people would call it ‘happy’.”

Erik rolls his eyes and walks past his employees to his office. “Get the fuck back to work.”

They snicker as he closes his door in their faces, but he can hear them start to shuffle around doing the menial tasks that can only get done when the shop isn’t busy anyway. With a sigh, Erik flops into his desk chair and pulls his phone back out. He presses buttons until he gets to his recent calls, where he adds Charles to his contacts under 'the Professor.'

**Author's Note:**

> After I wrote "you burn me up" like a month ago, I've been wanting to write a sort of sequel from Erik's pov, but I didn't want to post it until I'd written that so I could post them together.
> 
> There's no definite plot for this verse laid out; it's mostly just going to be a bunch of one-shots written whenever I'm feeling the cherik. Who knows what will happen.


End file.
